xp_logs | Miles & Warren, backdated to Friday evening

Miles has a date! And Warren is there to help get ready.

The sight that greeted Warren when he entered the suite that Miles and Bobby shared was straight out of a sitcom. Miles stood in front of a mirror, wearing only his boxers, holding a jersey in one hand and a tank top in the other. Discarded pants and shirts lied strewn around his feet. When Miles heard the door open, he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank God, you're here. Help."

Although Warren was used to nudity, it was usually of the older, consenting, female type. A half-naked teenager was not what he expected when he saw the text '911. my room' . Carefully maneuvering through the boys' room, he toed some clothes out of the way, and gingerly sat down on one of the chairs. He leaned back, and folded his fingers. "Well, Miles, I'm not entirely sure what to say, but if this is a seduction, I'm flattered although horrified at the same time."

Miles threw the jersey at him in frustration "Shut up. I have a date. I have no idea what to wear. I have no idea what to do. And every other man here either sleeps with other men or doesn't get any at all, so you're kinda all I have."

Warren nodded sagely. "Desperation advice. I like it." He leaned forward and rubbed his chin. "A date, huh? That's impressive. Was it from Homecoming? I told you, women value suits." He cleared his throat, and tilted his head. "Let's start with what you're going to do. There's no sense in picking your outfit beforehand, that's just crazy talk." He thought for a moment. "Pretend you're me, and money is no object -- what would you do with this girl? Also, what's your end goal? That's important too."

It was a good thing that Warren was not a telepath so he couldn't see what exactly Miles was thinking of for endgame. As it was, he had to quickly sit on his bed and cover his lap with a shirt. "A second date," was his actual answer. "And I mean, like, I guess I was thinking the new Hunger Games and Chipotle? Dinner and a movie is, like, classic."

"Okay, first things first," Warren said, giving Miles an unimpressed look. "Chipotle is not dinner. Silverware needs to be involved. Or chopsticks at least" He tapped his fingers on his leg. "Classic is good though. Dinner. Movie. Something simple. Are you expecting her to dress up? I mean, then, as much as I loathe to admit it, jeans and a t-shirt would probably be appropriate. Now, if you want to up the 'classic', there's always tickets to a show and an actual dinner out." Did 15 year olds go out to Broadway? Warren had no idea.

"I'm not taking a girl I made out with for 15 minutes at a school dance to, like, a theater show," Miles said incredulously. "And we're not going into the city, either. That's too far away and if it goes bad then I don't want to have to sit next to her on a train for an hour, know what I mean? But, fine, real restaurant. How 'bout sushi? Do girls like sushi?"

"I think everyone likes sushi." Warren gave a nod. "Okay. That plan sounds fine. And good point on if things go bad. I just throw money at them as they leave, and no one complains."

Miles offered a little prayer that he would never end up in that situation. "I do have to see these people again, you know, I do go to school with them. And girls talk. I can't have it get around that I'm a bad date." Any hope Miles had of going beyond a second date ever would die right there. He might as well switch schools yet again.

"Right. And it took us a while to get your mother to agree to this one." Warren definitely did not want to get on Rio's bad side. At all. "Why would girls say you're a bad date anyways? You're nice. Charming. Nice. Smell good. Nice. Articulate. Nice." Warren grinned. "Did I mention you're nice?"

"Isn't 'nice' a thing girls say when they're not interested but don't want to say why?" Miles asked with all the knowledge and experience of a high school student who watched too much TV. "I meant that if it isn't any good then I can't just throw money at her, that'll make things worse for everyone."

Warren shrugged. "I've never been called nice, to be honest. I don't know what it means other than I genuinely think you're a nice person. You actually think about other people. That's good. You won't ever be a CEO with that attitude, but it might get you la -- a kiss at the end of the night." He probably shouldn't be encouraging a 15 year old to have sex. Probably. "If you need condoms though, let me know. You're not allergic to latex are you?" There. That made things better.

"I don't think so. Why, is that a thing? Never mind." Miles shook his head rapidly, trying to repel the thoughts that were creeping into his head. "I don't need . . . those. That's not going to happen on a first date. Anyway. Back to the actual problem. What the heck do I wear?"

This is why Warren didn't date. Too much to worry about. With a loud sigh, he got up and walked towards the closet. Mumbling to himself that Miles needed a wardrobe overhaul, he looked around before finding a pair of dark wash jeans. "Here," he said tossing them to Miles. "If you wear this, and a button up with a tshirt underneath, you have the option of taking off the button up...or I guess a hoodie could work too. That's what you kids wear these days anyways. Regardless, pair it with a nice pair of shoes, not those ratty things you call sneakers, and you look like you cared more about the date than school, but not so much that you went out and bought new clothes."

"Okay, so . . ." Miles surveyed the contents of his dressers on the floor to see if anything matched Warren's specifications. He had to have something that wouldn't have completely embarrassed him. He picked up one shirt, took a big whiff, gagged, and tossed it aside. Not that one.

Aha! He fished out a clean white tank top and a button-down blue-and-black-checkered shirt that was surprisingly free of wrinkles, despite living on the floor. He pulled on the undershirt first and then the other one over it, and quickly fastened the buttons. "How's this?"

Warren shook his head amused. Maybe for Christmas, he'd buy Miles a laundry service. Clean clothes were imperative. Reaching forward, he undid a few buttons. "What are you, a grandfather? Only button all the way if you're planning on wearing a tie." A pause. "And maybe pants would be a good idea. If I've learned anything from horrible 70's sitcoms, that bedroom door will open soon and we're both gonna have some 'splainin' to do."

"Oh, it'd just be Bobby," Miles answered, waving off any concern. "He's seen me without my pants on a thousand times." He pulled on the jeans Warren had picked, but paused when he had tucked in his shirt halfway. "Wait. Tucked or not? Is that a thing that matters?"

"Do you look lame with it tucked in? Some people do."

Miles finished and buttoned and zipped his pants, and then turned to the mirror to examine himself. "Yeah, lame," he decided and pulled the shirt out again. "There, that looks more casual. Like, I'm not trying too hard. Right?"

"Right. Just make sure you don't actually say that to her," Warren cautioned. "You tend to get verbal diarrhea when you're nervous. When's this date again?"

"Uh." Miles checked his phone. "I meet her in an hour. Speaking of, can you also give me a ride to Main Street? Can't drive on my own yet, and it's not like I can web-swing my way there."

"An hour?!" What kind of horrible planning was this? Warren pulled out his own phone and grumbled as he went through his calendar. "Do I have to hang around there too? ‎I have teleconferences later on."

"I told you it was an emergency! What else do you think that means? And besides, if she or her dad sees me coming out of your car and not, you know, one of the beat-up wrecks in the garage or one of Clarice's teleportals, then I get a much better chance at a second date, right? And no, you don't have to stay. I can get home later myself."

Warren sighed again. "Fine, fine. I'll be that person at Starbucks with their laptop. I can't have you using public transportation for a date. No one falls in love with a man with a bus pass." He glanced at his phone again and did the math. "May as well go earlier than needed. No sense in being late. I'll meet you in the garage in 20....oh, and Miles?", Warren added "Introduce me as your chauffeur, and there goes your Christmas bonus."